"Ten guineas reward for an ebony desk!" commented Mrs. Bell. "I wonder what was in it?"
Blase did not receive an invitation to stay tea this afternoon, though he probably expected it. However, he was not one to intrude unwished for, and took his departure.
"I had a great mind to ask him what he meant by the remark he made the other evening about your poor father," said Mrs. Bell to Rosaline as he went out.
"Oh, mother, let it be!" exclaimed Rosaline in piteous tones, her pale face turning hectic. "He cannot know anything that would bring peace to you or me."
"Well, I should like my tea now," said Dame Bell. "And I should have asked him to stay, Rose, but for your ungracious looks."
Rosaline busied herself with the tea, which they took almost in silence. While putting the things away afterwards, Rosaline made some remark: which was not answered. Supposing her mother did not hear, she spoke again. Still there came no reply, and Rose looked round. Mrs. Bell was lying back on the sofa, apparently insensible.
"It was the pain, child," she breathed, when Rosaline had revived her; but she had not quite fainted; "the sharp, sudden pain here. I never had it, I think, as badly as that."
Like a ghost she was still, with a pinched look in her face. Rosaline was frightened. Without saying anything to her mother, she wrote a hasty line to Frank, to ask if he would come round, twisted it up three-cornered fashion, and despatched it by the landlady's daughter.
The note arrived just as Frank Raynor and his wife were beginning to think of setting out for evening service. Frank chanced to have gone into a small back-room near the kitchen, where he kept his store of drugs, and Daisy was alone when Sam came in, the note held between his fingers.
"For master, please, ma'am; and it is to be given to him directly."